


Cambalache (S2E2)

by aerolanya



Series: These Stolen Moments [4]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Feelings, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerolanya/pseuds/aerolanya
Summary: “Well, I ain't ready to go home yet, Javi. I'll tell ya that,” Murphy is pacing frantically, and suddenly chucks his bottle cap away, “Damn it! She's fucking...” Steve is spiraling, and Javi knows it.
Relationships: Steve Murphy/Javier Peña
Series: These Stolen Moments [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167374
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Cambalache (S2E2)

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently this is a series now! I'm rewatching Narcos and taking some of Steve and Javi's canon interactions and making them the way they are in my head.

Steve looks like shit. Peña makes this observation, but he keeps it to himself. No need to kick a man when he's down. Murphy clears his throat as he passes Javier a beer, even though it's the fucking middle of the day. Javi scratches his head, concerned, but still says nothing.

“Have you uh...had anything to eat in the last 24 hours?” Javi asks, rolling the bottle between his hands.

“This new boss...Messina...what do you know about her?” Steve takes a pull off his beer, clearly avoiding the question.

“Only what I've heard. She's out of New York. Doesn't take any shit,” Peña answers, staring pointedly at Steve and the state of their surroundings.

“Fuck!” he exclaims, then more quietly, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...” His gaze has dropped, unable to maintain eye contact, “Am I out?”

Javier shakes his head, uncertain. “I don't know.”

“Well, I ain't ready to go home yet, Javi. I'll tell ya that,” Murphy is pacing frantically, and suddenly chucks his bottle cap away, “Damn it! She's fucking...” Steve is spiraling, and Javi knows it.

He stands from the couch and crosses the room, grabbing Murphy's flailing limbs with steady hands. Steve is still looking down, looking away, looking anywhere but Javi's face. He can't bear to see any more disappointment in the eyes of people that he loves.

Peña slides his hands down Steve's arms, stopping at his wrists and stepping further into his space, forcing Murphy to look at him. Steve's eyes are red, and while he would blame it on the alcohol and cigarettes, Javi knows the truth.

Javier releases Murphy's wrists so that he can take Steve's face in his hands, force his gaze up to meet his eyes. Steve looks broken, and honestly, Javi breaks a little bit too at the sight of it. This was never the plan, this is not why he came here, but fuck it.

Javi presses his lips to Steve's gently, as if Steve is a fragile, delicate thing. And right now, he is. Murphy draws a shuddering breath, but his eyes fall shut, and he doesn't move away. He steps closer to Peña, sharing his space, wrapping long arms around Javi's body, as if he can use it to protect himself.

One of Javier's hands comes to cradle the back of Steve's head, pulling it down to rest on his shoulder, bringing Steve closer to him, hushing Murphy when he blows out another harsh breathe.

This part reminds him of Lorraine, honestly. Comforting someone he loved in a life he’s put far behind him. Just holding Steve against his body, letting him feel the steadiness of it, gently running his fingers through the blond locks at the base of Steve's neck.

Javier would be loathe to admit it, but he needs this just as much as Murphy does. His hookers come and go, and he appreciates the company, but he never gets to hold anyone like this. This is for Steve, he knows that, but he still relishes the feeling of simply being so close to someone.

Steve's face has settled into Javi's neck now, and when he tilts it up, his lips brush over Javi's pulse point. Javier closes his eyes tightly and tries to breathe steadily, but Steve seems to have noticed his reaction and is now using that information to his advantage, running his lips back and forth over the sensitive spot.

“Murphy, what are you...” Javi tries to pull away, get some distance, but Steve's arms are locked around him now, and he's not letting go.

“Steve, you can't...” he starts again, trying to pull his body away only exposes the long line of Javier's neck to Steve, who quickly takes advantage of the newly revealed skin. Peña groans as Murphy licks a hot stripe up his neck and nips softly at his jaw. It feels wrong. Connie just left, Steve's job is on the line...but he came here to help Steve, didn't he? If this is what he needs...

With his justifications well in hand, Javi tips his head back and lets Steve pepper kisses over his neck, up to his jawline, and then as far down as his shirt will allow. When Steve hits Peña's collar, he groans impatiently, and his hands come up to pull at his tie and shirt as if they've personally offended him.

In a matter of seconds, Javi's tie has been wrenched from around his neck and discarded somewhere in the mess of beer bottles and cigarette butts littering the room. When Steve moves to start unbuttoning Javi's shirt, Peña decides he's had enough of being a passive participant in...whatever this might be.

He releases his grip on the back of Steve's head and when Steve whines at the loss of contact, Javi grins, a bit manically, and shoves Steve into the nearest wall, mirroring their recent fight. When Murphy's back hits the wall, Peña is right there, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss, pressing his entire body against him, caging him in.

As Javier descents on him and starts devouring his mouth, Steve thinks absently that this might not be the best way to deal with his marital and professional problems. But Javi is right there, with hunger in his eyes, pushing one strong thigh between Steve's legs, and when he grinds down, he can't be bothered to wonder at how absolutely fucked this is.

It's like a switch has flipped in Peña, his pupils are blown and he's drinking in Steve's lips as if they're water and he's been lost in the desert for days. Murphy's hands are everywhere now, he's finally managed to push Javi's shirt back off his shoulders, revealing miles of sun-kissed skin he's longing to feel. Javier's hands come up under Steve's untucked shirt, thumbs tracing circles low on Steve's hip bones, and he actually growls when Steve's hips buck up into his touch.

Javi leans forward, lips brushing the lobe of Steve's ear before he whispers, “You're not running the show here, Murphy,” and bites down just hard enough to have Steve crying out again. Peña is emboldened by the sudden sound, and he rips Steve's shirt from his body in a mad dash to press their now naked torsos together. This time, both men groan in unison at the contact.

One of Javi's hands comes down to Steve's crotch, where his thigh is still pushing up insistently, and he roughly palms the growing bulge in Steve's pants. At that, Murphy's eyes fall closed and his head hits the wall, and Javi seizes his opportunity, sliding his hand over Steve's erection and kissing a path from his lips down to where the soft blond hairs disappear below his pants.

Surprisingly steady hands unbuckle Murphy's belt and Javi shoves one hand inside his boxers. Steve hisses at the contact and Peña groans, dropping his head onto the broad expanse of Steve's chest and wrapping his free hand around his waist to pull Murphy closer.

“Javi...” with a concerted effort, Steve manages to lift his head and open his eyes, and the clear blue cuts all the way to Peña's very soul. It's not that Javi is unfamiliar with the darkened expression, the hooded lids, the look of a mouth dropped slightly open in sheer want, but God, if it doesn't do something to him to see Steve staring at him with such open lust.

“Fuck...” Javi whispers, and claims Steve's lips again, still pumping Murphy's cock in his hand. Steve pulls back from the kiss, and Peña stops, concerned, but that fucking hillbilly just flashes him a wide smile before slowly drawing his hand up to his mouth, spitting into it, and shoving it down Javi's slacks to grasp him.

Peña is at a loss, and he's almost never at a loss. But the feeling of Steve's lips on his, their tongues brushing together, and now Steve's hand around his dick? That would be too much for any mortal man.

He brings his hand up to clasp the back of Steve's head again, pulling him back down for another kiss. How had he ever lived without the taste of Steve's mouth against his?

Steve's free hand has wrapped around Javi's waist, pressing their bodies even closer together as they frantically jerk each other off. Neither one of them is surprised at how quickly they come, Steve over Javi's hand and his own stomach, Javi inside his slacks. As they're catching their breath, Murphy huffs as he realizes belatedly that apparently, Javier goes commando even under a suit.

When Javi pulls his hand from Steve's boxers, he brings Murphy's gaze back to him and stares into those fucking impossibly blue eyes as he slowly and deliberately licks Steve's come off of his hand.

Murphy groans and his head falls back to the wall, and even though he just came, his cock twitches admirably at the sight he's been presented with.

Steve pushes himself off the wall, unceremoniously throwing his body into an armchair. Javier tucks himself back into his pants and pulls his shirt on, straightening his tie and grabbing his jacket. Steve just watches him, unwilling to move, unwilling to leave this moment.

As Peña shrugs his jacket on, he meets Steve's eyes once more. “Take a shower. Sober up. Talk to you,” his eyes are kind and concerned, but Steve’s mind is already starting to slip back into the same place it was in before Javi got there.

Javi stares down at him, as if he can somehow see all the way through him, hands set on his hips. Murphy just huffs by way of response, shaking his head slightly, and he absolutely, steadfastly refuses to watch Javi as he leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> Turns out I'm physically incapable of writing angst unless it's for my mustache boyfriends. I'm so sorry, y'all. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://hotspacepilots.tumblr.com)!


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